Safe heaven
by Ulises in silence
Summary: When a stranger appears in Gardenia's Police Station, Flora sees the foundations of her life shaken. The only way out is to fight against the shadows of his wrecked and bleeding heart. Translation of "Cruzando el Paraíso".
1. I: Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own** ** _Winx Club._** **I wrote this story a few years ago in Spanish, but, since some of you have asked for an English version, I've decided to translate it. Therefore, I promise to update as soon as possible, though it could take me some time to upload a new chapter. Anyway, I hope you like it!**

Friday, dead of night. The bright lights of _Dominus,_ one of Gardenia's night clubs, conceal the moon. The place is packed with sweating youngsters dancing to the rhythm of some techno song.

The atmosphere is different outside. Despite the cries of the drunks who argue with the brawny doorman, there is a strange calm, one of those that come right before a raging storm.

Leaning against the wall, a man dressed in black examines the scene carefully. His body blends in the dark like another shadow, waiting like so many times before. Once again, he's had that sinking feeling that something horrible was about to happen. He ventures an anxious glance at his watch, but it's only three in the morning and he cannot still see any trace of a crime.

He doesn't dare think he's made a mistake. His intuition never lies, so he keeps waiting patiently, though nothing happens. He then decides to leave when the clock strikes half past three.

The man walks the empty streets expectantly. Something about the surroundings of a famous club being empty on a Friday night makes him suspicious. No people, no cars, not even noise.

His mind screams suddenly. He runs back to the club.

The door is locked from the inside and there are no windows, so he looks for another way to get in. Rusty metallic stairs end at the flat roof. He climbs them with rehearsed ability and opens a trap door located on the floor.

 _Dominus_ smells of alcohol and cigarettes, of excess and desire. When the annoying smoke of the lights fades away his blood runs cold. Bodies are scattered all around the place, as if they were broken puppets. The silence speaks of death, and becomes deafening.

He is late for the first time in forever.

And _oh,_ he is not alone. Noticing a presence behind, he turns around just in time to avoid a fist. His leg aims successfully for the stranger's stomach, leaving him lying helplessly on the floor.

"Who hired you?"

A low growl is the answer. It is highly probable that the man who is currently struggling beneath his boot belongs to a mob.

He is tempted to repeat the question when something collides painfully with his head. Someone is about to shoot him with a gun. _Desert Eagle,_ 1979\. The headache is beginning to take its toll and he is outnumbered.

Unable to fight back, a rain of fists and kicks falls over him. Another man comes to help his partners and they take him out of the club.

After a dreadful car ride, he finds himself left to die in some piece of waste ground. He tries to stand up, but his wounds don't let him. Feeling sick and swollen, he sees a needle mark on his left forearm. The have drugged him.

His hands touch the ground desperately in search of something sharp. He picks a shred of glass and cuts neatly across the mark, wrapping his new wound tightly with the remains of his black t-shirt.

His consciousness is slipping and his ears ring with white noise. Making a last effort, he draws five numbers on his arm using the glass.

The world turns pitch black.


	2. II: Amnesia

That day Inspector Sommers arrived earlier at the station to get some work done before anyone called with an emergency. Years of endless traffic jams in Gardenia's avenues had turned him into a morning person. After all, what kind of boss was a man who wasn't at the office well before his subordinates?

Sommers parked his old Opel Astra in the garage, fairly surprised to see there were other early birds at six forty-five in a Saturday. Perhaps they listened to him more than he suspected.

His ego had just started to rise spectacularly when someone pushed him violently against his own car.

The aggressor was a tall and broad-shouldered young man dressed completely in torn black clothes. His dark hair was messy and dirty and his grey eyes glistened with madness. However, he seemed vaguely familiar.

"Inspector Timothy Sommers. Plaque number _25458._ Why the hell am I looking for you? Why I have this in my arm?"

Sommers checked said arm and his eyes widened comically. The man had tattooed the figures there. The skin was terribly bruised, purplish like a sun setting.

"Get off me. I don't know what you're talking about".

The stranger frowned but didn't release the neck of the Inspector's white shirt. He looked like a caged wild animal.

"Why am I looking for you?" He screamed. Sommer stood there, trying to put some distance in between and examining the shocked face of his aggressor.

Another car braked suddenly, startling them both. Eric, Sommers' second in command, stepped out of his car holding a gun.

"Set him free! Now!"

The man in black didn't even flinch.

"I'm going to shoot if you don't do as I say!"

Sommers kept on diving among his memories. They have met before, he was sure.

"Put down the gun" He ordered "I know him".

When Eric laid down his arm, the Inspector saw how the tension drained from his aggressor. His gaze was not so full of madness anymore.

"Help me, please" he begged, barely able to stand on his feet.

"We have to take him to the infirmary, Eric. He needs a doctor".

* * *

Luckily, Doctor Hawkins had also been early. Forever quiet and discreet, she did not ask any questions when Sommers and Eric brought her the awkward beaten man in black. She told them to lay him carefully on the pallet to start the check-up.

She had seen plenty of similar cases. It wasn't unusual for someone to arrive at the Police Station after a brawl, no matter if it was severely bruised or simply dead. She patiently sewed up his wounds with several stitches while the other policemen paced the examination room anxiously.

All in all, they remained in a comfortable silence until the patient felt ready to offer some information.

"Right now my life is like a book full of blank spaces. No memories left, just a single line" His voice was hoarse from the previous screaming, but it did not falter.

"A line?" the Doctor was not amused "Could you tell me what it says?"

"I woke up a few hours ago in the middle of nowhere, Doctor. I can tell you nothing because I don't remember anything".

She nodded, deciding not to press on the issue. Sometimes it was better to let the patients take their time, even when they were so mysterious that she couldn't wait to hear their stories.

"Look here, please" she asked, examining his eyes with a small torch. The man lost control again, his pupils shrinking until they were two tiny black spots lost in a grey sea.

"Images. I see images now"

"What do you see? Is it a memory?"

"I don't know. There are bright lights, people screaming, a closed door…"

Doctor Hawkins wrote something down and checked his file again. Her suspicions were confirmed.

"The analysis reveals high contents of drug in his blood. I'm afraid it is _scopolamine_ ".

Eric was the first to react.

"Isn't it the drug that destroys a person's will? It has become very popular around night clubs to commit crimes"

"Exactly. Also known as _Hyoscine hydrobromide,_ this substance is a tropane alkaloid drug with muscarinic antagonist effects. It is a medication used in the treatment of motion sickness and postoperative nausea and vomiting, though an overdose could be extremely dangerous. The patient dose was so high that, under normal circumstances, he should be dead".

"Did I try to kill myself, then?"

The man was even more shocked when Hawkins shook her head.

"Judging by the hematomae around the needle marks, they drugged you against your will. Since the wound is right over the brachial veins, you probably cut your own arm to extract the substance from your blood. I believe that you used something sharp to draw Sommers' plaque number in case you managed to stay alive".

A second wave of silence fell upon the room. There was something about the facts the Doctor had just worked out that seemed surreal. Indeed, the man sitting in the infirmary was strange enough to fit in a comic book or a horror film.

The three of them were so deep in thought that nearly jumped when the patient spoke again, his anguish cutting the air like a knife.

"Listen to me, Inspector Sommers. I am sure that something is about to happen. I can't tell you what it is, but we are running out of time. I don't even know who the hell I am, but something horrible is going to happen soon". A second after he sounded surprisingly hopeful "Do you know me, don't you? You know my name".

Sommers was not able to hold that sad gaze.

"I'm sorry, lad. I cannot tell you what you want".

"But you said we have met before. How can you not know my name, Inspector?"

"It's a long story that I will tell you later" Sommers answered "Now you should rest and calm yourself".

There was a knock on the glass door. A young woman was waiting on the other side, asking for permission.

"Come in, Flora!" The Inspector called. The brunette mumbled an apology to her father, who did not waste a second to start barking orders.

"I need a television in the interrogation room now, Eric. Tell them it's an emergency".

"Yes, Sir!"

But the man in black had only eyes for their new companion. Flora stood there, measuring him as if they were alone in the infirmary. His face did not sound familiar, but, for unknown reasons, she could not stop paying attention to him.

"Flora, you have to get me some files. Take all the tapes labeled _H"._

* * *

 **Before updating, I must tell you that, even though there are a few more chapters, the story is written in short scenes. I know the plot seems a little bit weird, but your doubts will be solved later, so don't worry. And remember to leave a review with your requests and opinions!**


	3. III: His name

The man in black sat petrified in front of the small screen. His very own face looked at him from the inside.

"You have tons of followers, you know?" Sommers said "They named you _H_ , and we call you so".

" _H_? What does it mean?"

The Inspector sighed heavily "You have always been a mystery. We don't know your true identity, only that you appear when problems come up; sometimes even before the Police figure out something bad is going on".

But their new guest, now _H,_ seemed different from the one on the video tape. It was like a tricked mirror. They could not find a trace of the dauntless young man that held a gun as if he had been born to carry out justice. That same athletic body had been seized by a frightened and desperate stranger.

"The way you solve those problems, though, is not exactly orthodox. The first time we heard about you we thought you were just some fucked up guy with delusions of becoming a hero. However, you had plenty of information and the certainty that you were able to finish crime off, so we decided to work together for a while…"

The Inspector turned deadly serious. He put his hands on H's shoulders "Trust me if I say law of averages always makes an exception with you".

Then, the screen showed H jumping from the top of a seven-floored building. When his feet touched the ground everybody released the breath they had been holding. He was unscratched.

"I was right in front of you the day you decided to test your abilities by aiming a gun at your temple. The bullet got stuck in the barrel".

H stood abruptly. Tears were about to start streaming down his injured angular face. It had been hard for him to discover the Herculean story behind his lost memories.

"You told me you had a gift, H".

"It's weird to consider yourself a total stranger, Inspector" his sudden laughter did not have a hint of happiness "And the worst part is that you don't know me either".

Finally, his voice broke. Leaning his forehead on the mirror of the interrogation room, H was utterly devastated. His body was shaking from the violence of his sobs and he hid his face in his hands.

"I'm just a bloody lunatic…" he stated, defeated "What's the point of having a _gift_ if I cannot even recall the man I used to be or how I was brought up?"

The answer died in the throats of the policemen and Flora. Certainly, there was something tragic about seeing a powerful man in such a pitiful condition. It was disheartening to know that a couple of hours ago he still was a kind of science-fiction superhero.

Sommers' phone rang insistently.

"I'm afraid I have to go now. Crime does not rest." He shared a look with Eric, but turned around before leaving "Bring him some water, Flo. He can stay here as long as he needs it".

* * *

When the door slammed shut, Flora busied herself organising the video tapes. H remained in his chair, unmoving and lost in thought.

"I have always wanted not to have memory. If you remember nothing then you can wake up every morning and live everything for the first time".

Her words brought him back to reality. When he looked at her, something different shone in his eyes. She believed it was hope.

"Who are you?" he asked, visibly intrigued "We have met before, don't we?"

Flora shook her head. She wasn't ready to hear what he was about to say.

"Then, why are you the only person who seems familiar since my arrival?"

She took a step back. It was imposible; she would have recognised someone like him. Her instinct screamed inside her mind and she left the room as well.

Maybe she could do with some water too.


	4. IV: Siren's song

A lonely gun rested on the table.

Life was challenging him again in the shape of a firearm left forgotten by a shocked Inspector. Painfully slowly, he took it with strange and rehearsed ability. The bullets rolled quickly between his long elegant fingers, willing to be handled with care. He lined them up carefully on the plastic surface.

One of them, the third one from the left, stood brighter than the others. If it could speak, he was sure it would beg to be fired; therefore, he answered its call.

The loaded gun was heavier in his hand. He took a deep breath and put it right beneath his chin. His mouth tasted like danger and trepidation.

Only that _gift_ could prevent his head to be blown into pieces and he could not wait to see if the Inspector had told the truth. His life didn't matter anymore because they had stolen his purpose and his future the day before.

His heart whispered there was nothing to lose; his mind tried hard not to repeat that girl's kind words. And the bullet was burning inside the gun.

 _"_ _And I understand these winds and tides. This change of times won't drag you away. Hold on, and hold on tightly. Hold on, and don't let go of my love. The storms will pass, it won't be long now"_

The world stopped all of a sudden. He did not pull the trigger, paralysed by the sweet female voice that came through the speaker from the other side of the mirror. That siren's song was stronger, more powerful than the bullet's.

 _"_ _And take my hand, you know I'll be there… rise up, rise up with wings like eagles. You run, you run. You run and not grow weary"_

He hid the gun under the table, just in time for her not to see the horrible show he was performing. The brunette looked like a daydream, her beautiful green eyes full of warmth he didn't deserve. She carried a couple of glasses, and nicely aimed him to accept one.

"Did you like the song?" She asked shyly, though her curious and genuine smile betrayed her.

He nodded when she took a seat and faced him from the other end of the table. "Well, it seems like we have a similar taste in music. Now you know a bit more about yourself, don't you?"

Her faith in him was simply endearing.

"And what did you feel the first time you listened to it?"

The smile widened. She even held his hand in a brave gesture. "I'm not really sure, but it must have been something akin to what you're feeling right now".

He swallowed. There was only one way to find out what his fate was. He decided that death was more appealing with an angel by your side.

"Do you think I have a gift?"

The question floated among the waves of magic of the moment they were sharing, threating to kill the atmosphere. But he only wanted her opinion. It certainly was more than enough.

When a _yes_ escaped her pink lips, he got himself together and took the gun once again. "Then, I suppose I should find out".

In the following seconds, she did not move a muscle. The revelation had hit her hard, and she knew a single mistake would end his life. However, she was determined not to deceive him when she finally had managed to destroy his first barrier. H's dead and cold body would be a burden too big to carry.

She stood quickly and diverted the firearm. The bullet cut the air neatly and put a hole on the wall.

She was still grabbing his right arm and panting when the door slammed open. Her father's face was white as snow. "What the hell was that?" he roared furiously.

H faced his wrath deadly calm.

"Time's running out, Inspector. Unless I metabolise the drug now, something terrible will happen soon".

* * *

 **Brief note: The lyrics Flora sings in this chapter belong to U2's amazing _Drowning man._ Apart from the song, I have and I will introduce several changes to make the story better and adjust the translation. That is why maybe some of you have noticed the differences with the Spanish version and the plot twists. I hope you are enjoying the fic so far and remember to leave your comments with requests! **


	5. V: Resurrection

The Police Department had been reluctant at first. They did not want him to take the drug again, but the new pang he had felt in the interrogation room had been strong enough to be a warning. Human lives were at stake and he needed to get his memories back.

H found himself in the Doctor's capable hands, now lying down on the uncomfortable stretcher and connected to a complicated machine. Worried lines crossed her forehead while checking his pulse rate for the umpteenth time.

"Something wrong, Hawkins?" asked the Inspector from the corner. He was still angry for his previous attempt of suicide next to his daughter, though he had finally agreed when he suggested the experiment.

"The patient presents a chart of hypertension, tachycardia and arrhythmia. If I inject the scopolamine again, his brain will turn into cocktail shaker; it's too risky".

"Go on, Doctor. I am ready to take the risk".

She wasn't convinced, but squeezed the tiny capsule she was holding until the dangerous liquid travelled through one of the tubes and got into H's arm. In a matter of seconds, his body began convulsing furiously.

"I can't get it yet!" he screamed. Hawkins injected a new dose and a bunch of images walked in front of his eyes. They were blurred and incomplete, like an old broken film roll.

The noise of the machine was deafening. "His rate is increasing. The drug is beginning to take effect, Inspector".

"For God's sake! He looks like hell…" Sommers had left his anger behind. His expression was of sheer terror.

"Don't worry. This man's endurance is frankly outstanding. I have never seen someone like him"

But H was shaking so badly that he could barely stay on the stretcher. His cries of agony filled the room.

"Stop, Hawkins! You are going to kill him!"

The Doctor was pale.

"Grab hold of his legs, Inspector. He's going to fall". The convulsions grew more violent and his naked torso rose and fell frenetically. Flora abandoned her discreet position and came to hold his hand. His beating was worriedly high and they were losing him.

"Stop!" she begged weakly. His hand slid from her firm grasp and fell limply next to his body. He did not convulse or scream anymore. The messy lines in the machine screen mutated into a straight one.

The Doctor's high-pitched voice aborted the general shock. "The defibrillator! Now!"

She placed the device on his chest and applied the first discharge. Sweat glistened all over her face and neck. How would they explain his death? H remained cold and motionless until the fifth electric shock.

They all breathed. He had survived.

"I have to go back" H protested, but the doctor would not change her views for a second time that morning. "The images… I was about to see everything. You have to take me back".

"No. We are not repeating your damn experiment, H. As the head of the Department, I declare all this madness finished. You could have died".

"Don't forget that it's _my_ life, Inspector. I cut my arm and drew your plaque number there for a reason. Maybe back then I thought it was worth the risk".

However, Sommers took advantage of the situation. "I said we are done. Now you'll be taken to the hospital" he sentenced and eyed the Doctor suspiciously "Did I make myself clear, Hawkings?"

"Yes, Sir"

The three of them waited patiently for Sommers to lock the door. Flora ran her fingers through his hair tenderly, trying to calm those bloodshot and anxious grey eyes. She had almost lost him, and, for unknown reasons, her heart clenched painfully every time she imagined a world without the tormented man in black.

"I saw several girls, Doctor" H said, breathing heavily "they were being kidnapped. You have to inject the drug again. Please"

Hawkins smirked mischievously "Ok. But you'd better keep the secret"

* * *

They carried out their clandestine plans in a comfortable semidarkness. The Doctor prepared the equipment carefully and rearranged the wires and tubes. "It is said that people who go through near death experiences see their whole lives. Due to the brain collapse, the drawers containing their memories open".

"Then, you mean he is going to remember something" Flora feared for his live. He was so delicate that she didn't think he was able to bear a new shock.

"That's right. The problem is that I will have to kill him" It did not sound well "I can't promise you he will resurrect, though. Long-term memories are stocked inside a region called _hippocampus,_ so his neurons could suffer from degeneration and…"

Hawkins stopped midsentence. The brunette had reclaimed her place beside H, now semi unconscious. She suspected something was going on between those two.

"I know you have a gift, H. I saw it when we met a few hours ago. You will live, I'm sure" He stared into that endless green, spelled. If he did not recover, at least he would die remembering that exquisite creature.

"You are part of that luck" he whispered softly, observing how Flora leaned down and pressed their mouths together.

Before falling into an iduced sleep, he realised the taste of heaven on earth was on his tongue.

* * *

 _His life danced in a sequence of scenes. They came and go swiftly, barely allowing him to catch a glimpse._

 _A hard childhood mixed with the loneliness of harder teenage years; a sad confused boy growing into a stronger young man. Black clothes, hooded eyes and a dark soul marked the bunch of images that, swirling uncontrollably for what he believed an eternity, stopped abruptly on a Friday night._

 _He had made his way into the famous club through the ceiling. Corpses on the dance floor left there to rot after a sweet death. Then, once the enemy was trapped, a fist collided painfully with his cheek._

 _But there was something different._

 _The sound of the beating was muffled by cries. Behind the kicks he averted a group of girls in short dresses and high heels, panicked because of another man was threatening them with a dangerous gun._

 _"_ _All fixed!" he joked. The tattoos on his face shifted with his wicked features. "Another round and we will drown in money"_

 _The last thing he heard was a thick French-accented laugh. They were taking him outside._

* * *

Hawkins adventured a glance at her watch. H had been dead for nearly one minute. His heart had stopped beating and his hands were cold, but he wore a relaxed expression.

"His parietal lobe still works" the Doctor informed. She grinned "He's remembering, Flora. H did it!"

She could barely fight the tears "Then you have to take him back, please"

When the minute hand struck three and a half minutes, the Doctor drove a needle right in the middle of his chest. His upper body rose Frankenstein's style and then collapsed once again on the stretcher.

He had resurrected.

"Is he going to be ok?" Flora asked.

"He has died twice today, but I suppose so. He really is an extraordinary man"

Suddenly, someone broke in. Inspector Sommers didn't look very happy, so Flora returned to the corridor and left the Police squad alone.

"What on earth have you done, Hawkins?"

H chose to interfere, even in his weak condition "I've seen a group of young women… a French guy was pointing them with a gun. He said something about money. I think they are selling them"

Sommers nodded.

"Alright. The ambulance is coming to get you, H. I want you to rest and leave us to do our job. Those bastards have just booked first class tickets for jail".


	6. VI: Melody

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been a long time since I last updated, but right now I am a little busy, so it can take a while for a new chapter to be posted. Anyway I hope you all keep your interest in the story!**

Flora walked home after the ambulance came for H. Her father had decided to stay in the Police Department so he could finish some business, so he was likely to spend the night drowned in paperwork and black coffee. He had always been a workaholic and his "disease" had been getting worse ever since her mother abandoned them both in a stormy night many years ago. His wife had been terribly right every time she accused him of being married to his job.

Leftovers were waiting for her in the kitchen. She chewed on the meat and played with the carrots, swallowing her dinner down mechanically. Her thoughts were still with the mysterious young man and not even the deep tiredness she felt could make them go away. It had only take a morning to break the routine she had been living for years and she secretly loved the sudden change. She was used to the daily fear of losing her father in crossfire, but she certainly had not been prepared to see H almost killing himself for that damn gift. He had marked her forever because now she wasn't able to imagine the world without those stormy eyes or that sad smiled.

From the very first moment she had known he was one in a million. All of him was an enigma she was willing to solve and, back in the interrogation room, she had had the feeling that maybe he was also willing to get to know her sometime.

But she was not good at guys. Her nineteen years had been devoid of any type of relationship and her knowledge on love was mainly based on books and movies. She didn't even consider herself an interesting or a beautiful person, just a shy plain girl with a boring life and ordinary problems.

How the hell was she going to win a superhero's heart?

She sighed when her head hit the pillow. Too much thinking was exhausting and her unanswered questions fell into the void of her dreams.

* * *

The break of dawn gave her the courage to carry out her new mission. After the quickest breakfast of her life she headed to the hospital. She spent the time it took her to reach her destination plotting and making strategies that she hoped not to forget the moment she saw H's face.

Luckily, it was so early that the hospital was not overcrowded. The receptionist, a kind old woman who immediately thought that H was her boyfriend, told her that he was in one of the rooms of the third floor. Flora blushed all the way to room 304, her insides twisting because of anxiety and excitement.

"Morning, Flora"

She turned around and saw H standing in the middle of the corridor. He was wearing his typical black outfit instead of the hospital gown, but, all in all, his wounds seemed to have improved since the day before.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, visibly concerned.

"I've been discharged a few minutes ago" he said "You shouldn't worry so much about me. I know how to take care of myself".

H smiled but didn't move a muscle. He was too clever to believe that she had crossed the whole town just to pay him a visit and fuss over his health. Flora decided that it was her opportunity to take the first step.

"Well, the truth is that I'm here to ask if you want to grab some drinks tonight. I have tickets for a concert, but no one to go with…"

She stammered when his moth became a thin line. His cold gaze was piercing her "You don't have to come if you don't want to" she rushed to add.

H kept his posture stiff, ready to attack. She took it as a bad sign. Did she do something wrong?

"I'll go with you" he finally declared "Be ready at 8.45"

* * *

Against all odds, H had accepted. She could not still believe she had asked him out; she'd never had the guts to do such crazy things. Anyway, it would be a huge mistake to consider their date a victory.

Something had change in his eyes since his brief stay in the Police Station. He was not afraid anymore, but permanently alert (and he was always right when being so). It could not be a good sign, but maybe going out would help him relax and take his shields down for a while.

She pushed those thoughts apart to take a look at the mirror and was pleased with what she saw. The discreet makeup she had applied highlighted her almond-shaped emerald eyes and the dress she had chosen fitted nicely enough. Her friends would be proud!

When she realised H was waiting at the door of their apartmen,t she could not help to wonder how he could have found out where she and her father lived. The bruises he sported the day before had been covered smartly and now he could be mistaken as an ordinary young man despite his athletic complexion and impressive height.

They exchanged quick greetings and rushed outside, tough Flora was almost sure that she had caught him blushing when she had opened the door. She suspected he had not dated anyone either.

Both of them walked in comfortable silence to the _Frutti Music Bar._ She could tell H's mind was somewhere else judging by his tense jaw and the way he surveyed the streets. She didn't dare think it had to do with his gift.

"Are you ok?" she asked when they sat on a table in one of the corners of the bar "I believe something's worrying you".

"I'm fine" he answered, avoiding her eyes "It's just that I have never been to a concert".

Flora smiled sweetly "Me neither, but this is the best band I know. It's the one I showed you at the Station".

Right on cue, the lights went down and the band, _Follia_ , had appeared on the wide stage.


	7. VII: Confusion

_Take my hand; you know I'll be there._

 _If you can I'll cross the sky for your love_

 _For I have promised, for to be with you tonight and for the time that will come._

 _Take my hand you know I'll be there_

 _If you can I'll cross the sky for your love._

 _And I understand these winds and tides,_

 _This change of times won't drag you away._

 _Hold on, and hold on tightly._

 _Hold on, and don't let go of my love._

 _The storms will pass, it won't be long now._

 _This love will last, this love will last forever._

 _And take my hand, you know I'll be there._

 _If you can I'll cross the sky for your love._

 _Give you what I hold dear._

 _Hold on, hold on tightly._

 _Hold on, and hold on tightly._

 _Rise up, rise up with wings like eagles._

 _You run, you run._

 _You run and not grow weary._

 _Hold on, and hold on tightly._

 _This love, lasts forever._

 _Now this love lasts forever._

When the song ended the public cheered and clapped furiously. Even H looked fairly surprised after the soft and hypnotizing voice of the singer filled the atmosphere with touching lyrics.

However, he was still a bit off. He kept his usual stiff and guarded posture even though the people were chatting happily and dancing on the floor. The gift had rung the alarm, and he didn't have a doubt something was going to happen despite he tried not to slip and let Flora know.

"You had a presentiment, right?"

H winced internally. She was too smart to ignore his traitorous body signals. And because he secretly admired her ability to decipher his feelings, he nodded.

"I have been sensing something since my memories came back, but you don't have to worry. It has always been this way, you know? These feelings come and go as they please and I don't have power over them".

Flora wasn't convinced after hearing his poor excuse.

"Tell me the truth, please…"

But her words died because of a sudden loud noise. The bar's door slammed against the wall and a group of rough men made their entrance.

He had seen them before. At the _Dominus._

"Don't move!" screamed one of them. The three had shaved heads and tattoos all over their muscled arms. Everybody fell silent when they saw the men were carrying knives and guns.

"Stay here" H whispered "I have to go".

Flora could not even answer, for he had disappeared among the crowds. Dread assaulted her stomach all of a sudden. She was alone, defenseless and one of the assailants was approaching dangerously.

"Hey, beautiful" he said, caressing her cheek mischievously "You are coming with us"

His thick French accent left her startled.

"Let me go!" she shouted when he grabbed her arm and forced her to stand up.

"Move and I'll shoot" the man threatened; then he checked the room and ordered all the women to align on the left wall.

* * *

Outside the bar, H kept on waiting for the Police to arrive. He had managed to get out through the emergency exit and called the agents to start an operation. Under normal circumstances, he would have solved the problem on his own, but he wasn't completely recovered from the beating and too many lives were at stake.

He regretted having agreed to go out with Flora. He should have known better: every single move he made had consequences in the great scheme of things. That was why he purposely avoided human contact. After the events in the Police Station, he had learned those men belonged to a crime syndicate that kidnapped young women in order to sell them to brothels all around the world as if they were cattle. They had been charged with murder and human trafficking.

Several Police cars skidded over the pavement a few minutes after. The policemen arrested the men who were in charge of the main door, but they could not get in because it had been locked from the inside.

Sommers simply went crazy when they told him his daughter had been kidnapped. His wrath and anguish fell upon the agents when he began barking orders and inspecting the streets, though the worst was directed to H, who had been supposed to take care of her in his absence.

"You have left her at the mercy of those criminals" he stated "If she has a single scratch I will rip your head off".

* * *

Flora's phone buzzed insistently. It was her father.

"Answer it!" the French man shouted while he took the phone away.

"Flora? Are you okay?"

" _La police, eh?_ _Je vais tuer cette femme si vous ne me laissez pas s'échapper avec l'argent. Vous avez quatre-vingt-dix secondes pour prendre une désistion_ ".

* * *

The Inspector was desperate.

"What the hell is that bastard saying?" he asked one of the arrested men "Tell me right now what the fuck he is saying!"

But the other man remained silent.

"If you don't want to speak I swear I will put a bullet in that bloody head!"

H stopped Sommer's hand in one swift movement. "He said he'd kill Flora unless we give him enough money to escape" he explained.

Then, the kidnapper's voice came up again.

" _Quatre-vingt-dix, quatre-vingt-neuf, quatre-vingt-huit..._ "

H informed he was counting backwards. They had eighty-eight seconds left. The Inspector sighed and gave him a pleading look. Defeated and afraid, he put his gun in H's hands.

"You are my last hope. Do something, please"

Both men shared a nod, like an unspoken agreement. Sommers ordered his men to lay down their weapons.

 _"Trente-cinq, trente-quatre..."_

H studied the building with rehearsed carefulness. He could feel the kidnapper running up and down the room, gun in hand and anxious. His hearing sense sharpened and he aimed the gun at the right side of the bar.

" _Dix- neuf, dix-huit, dix-sept, seize…"_

He closed his eyes and focused. He could practically see what was happening inside the _Frutti Music Bar._ The women screamed and whined while the French continued the countdown. Flora was frozen in front of the gun.

" _Cinq, quatre, trois, deux, un…_ "

They had run out of time. H shot.

"Get in!" Sommers ordered.

* * *

When the people started leaving, the heavy rain had soaked the crime scene. A black cloud of sheer distress had wrapped the bar and its surroundings. The Inspector stayed motionless beside the door, waiting for his daughter to come out. She was white as snow but safe and sound. He gave her a bone crashing hug and kissed the top of her head tenderly. He had thought he would never hold her in his arms.

Nevertheless, she only had eyes for H. At first she had blamed him for abandoning her; now she understood he only wished to save them all. And he had saved her with that shot.

She was about to turn around to talk to him when she saw him returning the gun to one of the agents. His shoulders were hunched and his face was the acute reflectIion of weariness and grief.

Then he turned around and left, his elegant dark figure lost in the dense ran curtain.

* * *

 **The amazing song I used for the story is _Drowning man_ by U2 (in case you do not remeber from one of the previous chapters). Regarding the French words, they are just numbers, so I suppose they do not need to be translated to understant the context.**

 **By the way, I would like to thank you all for the reviews, because they encourage me to continue the fic.**


End file.
